


In Hopes Of...

by KristaTakeTheWheel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Additional tags will be added, F/M, I missed my Warden, Western Approach - Ritual Tower, relationship tags will be updated as they show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristaTakeTheWheel/pseuds/KristaTakeTheWheel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Inquisitor Nori of Clan Lavellan ventured to the Western Approach with Champion Ro Hawke and Warden Alistair Theirin to find the Grey Wardens, she didn’t expect to find the Hero of Ferelden being ready to be used as a sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In ol' Crestwood

A shadow loomed over her, blocking out the light. _Move!_ Her mind screamed at her. But her legs wouldn’t move. They were stuck in place. Her whole body had frozen in place. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this close to a dragon. When was the last time she faced a dragon this close? Has she even fought a dragon before? She can’t remember. Not at this moment.

   “Boss!”

_Move!_

She flung herself forward and found herself _underneath_ the dragon, barely missing the claws that came raining down. She rolled onto her back to see the golden belly of the Northern Hunter. With a shaky deep breath, the Inquisitor let her staff roll onto the dirt beside her. She pulled back her right fist as far as she could, considering she was lying on the ground. Around her fist, small rocks began to form out of nothing. They clung to her hand, forming a fist itself.

With what little mana she had left, she poured it all into this one spell before she punched up and the rock fist went flying straight upwards, breaking through the scaly belly. Her eyes widen and before she could completely get out of the way, Inquisitor Nori of Clan Lavellan was covered in dragon blood and the dragon itself came toppling down.

**XXX**

Nori of Clan Lavellan was a red-head with the Ghilan’nain vallaslin swirling above her grey eyes and below her mouth. She was once the Keeper’s First (and named so after she accidently turned her sister into a halla and back), she was once a prisoner, then she became the Herald of a human war hero and then the Inquisitor of the Inquisition. And despite all she’s been through, she will never get used to the feeling of her head pounding against itself. It gave her the unpleasant memories of the attack on Haven, all those months ago. Her head had been pounding then as it was now. At least this time, she didn’t have dislocated joints, cracked bones or broken ribs. This time, it was just the pounding headache, legs that felt weak and a hand that continued to pulse pain up her arm as it continued to grow. It was slow, when she didn’t close a rift, but it was still growing. She theorised that when she closed a rift, she was absorbing the magic that caused it to open as well, causing the Mark to spread in a jolt to make room for it. But when she wasn’t closing a rift, she believed it was feeding off her mana—her magic, and in turn, her.

She has spoken of her theories with Solas, especially after saving his friend Wisdom, anything to keep him distracted from his grief. He too agreed with her. But neither one of them knew how to completely stop it from growing. He said he was searching the Fade for answers, but hasn’t come across anything. If the Fade knew nothing of what to do, then surely there was nothing to do about it. And that terrified her.

Solas often told her to speak to Commander Cullen about her situation. That he had the right to know, considering how close she and her commander had come. That he would understand the pain. But Nori wasn’t sure if Cullen needed to know that his lover was slowly dying when he had issues of his own to push through, such as the lyrium withdrawal and nightmares that can force him out of his sleep screaming.

Cullen had spoken to her about his withdrawal just before she left for the Exalted Plains to rescue Wisdom for they had time before the Champion arrived in Skyhold. He was angry at the time. He looked defeated. Hollow. And while Nori was proud of him for pushing forward, she worried. No one deserved to look that defeated. That hollow. That alone. Nobody. And while Cullen said that she could come to him whenever she needed to unload a burden, she never did. Not with this. Definitely not with something not even she understood.

Nori groaned as she tried to sit up. Holding her head as she did so did not help. Half her body felt wet and sticky. And when she managed to open her eyes and squinting past the blinding sun, she soon found out why she felt wet and sticky. All of her right side was covered in the blood and guts of the dragon that laid at her feet. She wouldn’t have minded so much of being covered in blood, guts and mud if it wasn’t it in her hair. However, it was. And now she was grumpy.

   “You alright there, Twitch?” Varric asked from her left. Her reply was groan as she fell back against the dirt, ignoring the ringing in her head. The Iron Bull laughter boomed from above. When she opened her eyes to glare at him, she found him sitting on the dragon. Of all places to sit, of course it would be there. “Covered in dragon’s blood and all that?”

Nori glared. Varric only laughed.

   Soon, Cassandra’s voice rang out from her right; “Is the Inquisitor all—ah!” Nori rolled her eyes as she sat up. “You’re covered in blood.”

   “Yes. And it’s clearly not my blood.” Nori replied, standing up and dusting the dirt of her arse. She flinched slightly when her hands came into contact with the blood on her armour. “I’ll tell you what though, Crestwood has too many issues. First, there was undead and the bandits. Then there was the rift underneath the bloody lake only to find out the mayor has run off. And now a bloody dragon. This place is clearly the worst place this Alistair guy could chose to hide. Why couldn’t he hide in the Emerald Graves? Where it was sunny and warm? Oh no, it had to be here where it’s raining and muddy and filled with undead. That’s _so_ much better.” Bull laughed again and Cassandra tried to hide hers behind an awkward cough.

With a roll of her eyes, Nori picked at her hair in hopes that if she kept moving it every once and a while, it would dry into a massive clump. Lifting up her staff up from the dirt, Nori marched on, followed by those who she knew found her current state amusing. She was sure if someone else was covered in dragon’s blood, she too, would find it amusing. But it wasn’t someone else. It was her. And it was in her hair. So, she did not find it so amusing.

There was only one thing left that needed to be attended to in dear ol’ Crestwood. And that was meeting with Varric’s friend; Ro Hawke and her friend; Warden Alistair. Hawke showed up in Skyhold shortly after Nori returned from the Exalted Plains. What a fun time that was with the Freeman and the undead and roaming demons. And while Nori was excited to meet this hero of a woman, she was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. And sleep she did. On Hawke. It was an embarrassing moment for her. Hawke had said it wasn’t the first person she’s had to catch when they fell asleep. It did not make Nori feel any better.

Nori’s legs ached as she walked up the sloppy terrain. Her legs felt like they were about to give out, and when they did, she would probably fall asleep in the mud. The ground was still wet and muddy from the rain. And boy was she glad when they returned to the surface after closing a rift that the rain had stopped. Now, she wouldn’t mind it if the rain returned. It might’ve washed away the blood that was now starting dry against her skin and armour. She almost let out a whimper. She could _feel_ it drying against her skin. She felt dirty. Well, she was dirty. She was covered in blood, guts and mud.

   “There you are!” Hawke greeted as they walked up to the cave mouth that sat hidden away from the road. “My Ward—what happened to you?” Hawke asked, noticing Nori’s state. “You look like you just took on a dragon.” Nori’s left eye twitched. She could hear the laughter in the warrior’s voice. The grin on the Champion’s face did not help matters.

   “That’s because we did, Hawke.” Varric piped up. “Just like old times.” He really shouldn’t have sounded as relaxed as he did. He also shouldn’t look as relaxed as he did. Now that she actually looked at her companions, Cassandra looked just as bored as she normally did and Iron Bull was still giddy from the fight. Why couldn’t she meet anyone normal?

   “Can we please just go inside?” Nori asked, “I can feel the blood drying and it’s highly disturbing.”

   “Of course, Inquisitor, my Warden friend is just inside.” Hawke giggled. _Giggled_. Nori never thought she would see the day that a warrior giggled. Especially one so well known as Hawke.

Inside the cave tunnel, it was cold, damp and full of deep mushrooms. While hoping that the cold and damp would slow the drying process of the blood covering half her body, Nori warned Hawke of the Wardens they had encountered on the way to New Crestwood. The Champion didn’t seem all that surprised. Annoyed perhaps but not surprised.

When they came to end of the tunnel, only a door stood between them and the Warden. Nori’s heart raced against her chest. This Warden, he was one of the few who stopped the Blight. Just like Leliana. This man was a hero. And she was nervous to meet him. With one deep breath, Nori pushed open the door. She winced when it squeaked on its hinges. She signalled her companions to wait. Should too many go inside at once, Nori feared that the Warden would not talk, despite Hawke being there.

She was welcomed with the sight of a fire surrounded by damp rocks accompanied by the sound of the fire crackling and water dripping. She stepped in, observing her surroundings by turning around as she walked.

   “Again, I ask, why not the Emerald Graves?” She muttered. Whether that was to herself or to Alistair who could probably hear her, she didn’t know.

While she enjoyed the sound a crackling fire, the sound of a blade coming out of its sheath grabbed her attention. With all her will not too quickly spin around and defend herself, she slowly turned to face what could only be the Warden. There was no use in spooking someone with a sword out. That only resulted in injuries and possible death. And when she did finally turn around, there was Alistair pointing a sword pointing directly at her throat. Nori swallowed. This was definitely not how she pictured dying. And while she could probably get away with hitting him with some spell, rumour had it he was once a Templar. He knew magic. He knew how to defend himself from it. But should push comes to shove, that would not stop her. Lightning already crackled around her fingers. Neither she nor Alistair broke their stare. Who would be the first to break way? Who would be the first to attack?

 _Do I smell like dragon_ , Nori wondered. _Is that a bad smell? First impressions are always best._

   “Whoa! Hold your horses, you two,” Hawke called, walking into the room, “It’s just us. I brought the Inquisitor.”

   Alistair broke away first, glancing at Hawke and then back Nori, a grin twitch at his lips. “An Inquisitor covered in dragon’s blood.”

   Nori frowned. “Fen’harel’s furry bullocks, yes, I know. I am fully aware of my current looks and believe me, it’s highly disturbing. Now, most of you Wardens disappear and then I’m stuck with a darkspawn magister named Corypheus who wants me very much to be dead. Do you think, just maybe, that one has something to do with the other?” A rush of air escaped Nori once she finished. _Deep breaths_ , Nori thought. “I apologise. It’s just been a very long day. The name’s Nori.” Sigh. Titles next; “Of Clan Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor of the Inquisition, excreta, excreta, excreta. How’d you do?”

   Alistair laughed. Again, Nori frowned. “You remind me of my wife.” Alistair eventually said. “Now, let’s get to business, shall we?” Nori nodded and gained a grin of amusement and acceptance from Alistair as he spoke; “When Hawke killed Corypheus, the Wardens thought the matter dissolved.”


	2. The Sand of Western Approach

It was dark. Her hands were bound. Her stomach growled in hunger and her throat dry of thirst. She was tired. Her energy drained. And mana pools depleted. A rune necklace sat against her chest keeping her mana drained and cut off. She could barely keep herself awake. But she couldn’t sleep. She was too angry. That anger kept her awake. Kept her pulling at the knot around her wrists.

She barely remembers how she ended up here. Or where _here_ was. She was often moved. And it was during the dead of night and she was blindfolded. She couldn’t keep track of their position. All she knew was there was sand. Lots and lots of sand. A desert, she concluded. She hated deserts.

She had been careless. She knew that much. How else was she captured? She shouldn’t have trusted them. It had been strange. Strange how calm the Grey Wardens had been despite the song she _knew_ was ringing at the back of their minds. She was angry with her Order. This was not what Grey Wardens stood for. Not this. Yes, she broke many of the rules and oaths of the Order. Yes, she’s made bargains no Grey Warden would make in their right mind. But this? Summoning a demon army? Using the mages of the Grey Wardens as sacrifices? No. She would never agree to this. She’d rather face the Blight again.

She flinched greatly when a burst of light hit her face. She squinted and looked up. Someone stood before her. She could not see their face. But it was of male build. She glared the best she could with the sun beating down on her face.

   “It is time.” Was all that was said to her as two others came to her side and heaved her off the ground. More bruises to the collection, she thought as the grips on her upper arm were tighter than necessary.

The strange man walked away, and she was dragged to follow. Emerson scanned her surroundings. Blinding golden sand as all she could see. A desert. She squinted her eyes. In the distance to her right was a fort. A fort which she did not recognise. The landmark was no use to her. So, she turned her attention to the ruins in front of her. And ruins they were. Pillars cracking and walls crumbling with time; it was a spectacular view. She would have loved to study its origins if she were not tied up.

Emerson knew what was to come. A sacrifice is what she was to be.

   _“You_ survived _the Blight. You_ survived _killing an Archdemon, surely that would attract such power.”_

Fools, she thought. That would not attract a demon. Or power. It was her mana that would attract a demon. Mana that was depleted. How a demon would even notice her, Emerson did not have a clue. She knew she was to be a sacrifice but how was she supposed to be that if she could not attract a demon? Whatever plan the Wardens had with a demon army, Emerson was left in the dark. She could not guess what was going through the minds of those who were once comrades. All she knew was that their plan was going to fail if they wanted a demon to possess her.

Her eyes fell to the ground. She watched her bare feet move below her. She no longer wore her Grey Warden armour. That had been taken from her. She should have left the armour on. Her gut told her not to trust her Order. To not let her guard down. But she did. And now she’s paying the price. She now wore rags. Rags that reminded her of the ones she wore during the Blight. Oh, what was it called? She recalled getting it from the Wonders of Thedas back in Denerim. ‘Robes of the Witch’, that was it. She wore it for its enchantments. Of course, its revealing style making Alistair blush every time he even so looked at her was also a pretty good reason to wear it.

Her feet halted and Alistair was on her mind. Where was he, she wondered. Was he safe? She hadn’t heard from him in a while. It was the reason why she found herself coming to the Wardens. When she was captured, she demanded answers for her arrest. She demanded to know where Alistair was. All she got was; “He’s a traitor.” They had used present tense. So, he must still be alive. Captured like she or on the run, but alive. That was hope enough. But still she worried. How could she not? Her husband was nowhere to be seen.

She hadn’t been alone when she first travelled west in search for a cure for the Taint. She had been with Oghren and her mabari; Pooka. But when she came back, they parted ways. It took a full hour and plenty of food bribes to convince Pooka to part from her. But she had been alone when she was captured. At least she knew those two were safe. Well, as safe as a Grey Warden and a mabari can be.

Emerson raised her head, silvery grey hair falling into her eyesight. Hair that had once been brown turned silvery grey. She blamed being a spirit based mage for the colour change. In front of her, stood a group of Wardens and most wore blank looks. Her glare reached them all.

The man that had walked in front of her turned around and faced her. Emerson kept her head high and glare focused. The man had an ugly moustache and terrible goatee. Emerson resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the ridiculous look this man carried. Said ridiculous man ripped the rune necklace off her neck. The cord snapped and Emerson hissed at pain it caused against her neck.

   “This is Warden-Commander Clarel’s orders,” Goatee started to explain.

   “Did she also order you to have stupid facial hair?” Emerson retorted before he could continue, “Or was that your choice?”

He did not reply. Only frowned and walked away. The glare Emerson wore faded away into a smug grin that twitched at the corner of her mouth. Her mana was returning. Fast. Perhaps that is what this man wanted.

Unfortunately for him, he should have left the thing on her.

**XXX**

   “Is it just me,” Nori began, rubbing the back of her neck, “or do Wardens always pick the worst places to be?” Her question had been directed at no one but it could be assumed it was meant for Alistair.

   “It’s a charm we Wardens have.” Alistair replied. His tone light but he did not feel that way. How long had it been since he last heard from his wife? He had been on the run. He wrote to her about it and what had caused his situation. But he got no reply. Did she even get his letter?

Emerson wasn’t alone when she travelled into the west. She had taken Pooka and Oghren with her. Bethany, along with Anders (it had been a surprise to see the blonde mage again) and Hawke’s own mabari had been moved to a safe house on Hawke’s pleas and Nathaniel remained with him to find answers. When Alistair was labelled a traitor, Nathaniel managed to get away without being chased or caught. He wondered if Howe went to the safe house or went searching for Emerson.

   “It’s a terrible charm.” Nori said as she continued to march over the blazing sand. They were making their way towards the ruins Alistair had tracked the Wardens to.

   “You’re telling me,” Hawke piped up. “Reminds me of the time Anders had me rummage through sewers for some ingredient with some fancy name.” She shivered at the memory. “Ugh. It was gross. It was not at all the romantic date I thought it was going to be.”

   “Blondie?” Varric twisted his head up to look at his old friend, “Romantic? Are we talking about the same person here?”

   “He can be very romantic when he wants to be.” Hawke retorted. She paused. “I’ll admit I tend to ruin those romantic moments.”

Alistair gave an airy laugh. The tendency to ruin romantic moments runs in the family it seems, he thought. He turned his gaze to the distance. There sat the ruins. Seeing those ruins sent a shiver down Alistair’s spine. And the only thing he could do was march forward and pray that his wife was safe. That she was far from this mess. But she always did draw in trouble. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ran into her on a battlefield. Okay, maybe he would be surprised. But the shock would be over quite quickly.

   “Hawke? Alistair?” Nori spoke up, turning to face her two guests. The sun sat behind her causing Alistair to squint to even look at the red-headed elf. “You two scout ahead to the ruins. Varric, Iron Bull, Cole and I will set up a camp not too far away. That way, if anyone is injured we have a camp we can retreat to without having to trek halfway across the desert. Again.” She turned and began mumbling under her breath, “I hate this place. Why couldn’t they have hidden in a forest? At least there’s shade there.”

It sounded like a good plan. But even so, Alistair had never been good at scouting. And Hawke could make a scene just by standing there. Yes, let’s send two warriors who are not at all that great at sneaking scout ahead and hope they don’t get caught. Sound plan, Inquisitor. But that just reminded Alistair of Emerson even more so.

So, the group was split into two groups, parting ways. Alistair and Hawke moved quickly across the sand dunes. Besides having running into a hyena or two, the quick trip was uneventful. It was when they arrived that it got a little heated. Grey Wardens stood guard. Alistair felt his heart break. He didn’t want to fight those who should be his comrades. But as a blade crashed against his shield, he wasn’t left much of a choice. Swinging his shield arm to the side, the Warden in front of him was left wide open. He thrusted his sword forward, burying it deep within his should-be comrade’s chest. His opponent should have carried a shield. Alistair’s sword arm retreated as he turned to face Hawke.

The large blade she wielded came soaring down and burying itself within the shoulder of her opponent. She reefed her arm back, pulling the sword with it. The Warden slumped to the ground with a scream. Hawke swung the sword behind her. She paused for a moment. Whatever ran through her mind, she shook it out and brought the swinging back around and lopping the man’s head clean off.

Alistair shuddered. He would hate to be on the receiving end of that sword. Hawke was known for her temper. But that temper only reared its terrifying head in the morning or when someone threatens those close to her. Still, it was well known and should not be prodded at.

   “Are you alright, Hawke?” Alistair asked. She had yet to turn and face him. She stared at the dead body at her feet. Or perhaps she stared at nothing. Seeing nothing. He did not know. Nor will he for she never answered him. Only turned her head to see the Inquisitor and her followers heading towards them. She walked to greet them. He followed.

But when they went to confront the Grey Wardens who Alistair saw standing there made his heart stop and his throat tighten. He recognised the magical signature that was distinctly hers and hers alone. It was his wife. It was Emerson.

And she was angry.


	3. What the Wardens Want

Nori was a little confused when she saw the woman standing there in nothing but rags. Who was this person? Was she a Grey Warden? Was she with the others? No, that didn’t seem right. Her hands were bound. She was a prisoner.

The air tickled with magic. Nori’s eyes were drawn to the ground. There, she noticed, a seedling was sprouting. And growing. Far too quickly to be natural but slow enough not draw a lot of attention. Was this woman causing that? Yes. She was. The woman was a mage, she realised. But why was she growing a plant? What was the point? Wait, was she—?

   “Inquisitor,” Nori’s head snapped up at the sound of her title. Creators, she hated that title. She preferred Herald. It seemed to have less weight. But perhaps, she was only imagining the different weights in titles. She stared at the man on top of the stairs. What an ugly moustache. “What an unexpected surprise.” The man bowed. “Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service.”

Nori had to use all of her will to not scrunch up her face in disgust. This man had terrible a facial hair style, clearly had a massive ego and was a noble if _Lord_ was anything to go by. This was not what she wanted to deal with. Not today. Not ever. She had to deal with enough nobles back in Skyhold. She did not want to deal with them in the middle of the desert surrounded by demons. Demons that looked bounded. While it was almost a comforting thought knowing that they weren’t going to attack at random, them being past the Veil was nerve racking. She supposed that was the demon army the Envy Demon had showed her while she was at Therinfal Redoubt. She still feels its claws raking against her mind.

A lot of people had been against the idea of recruiting the Templars. As much as she felt safer amongst other mages despite a majority of them being human, Nori didn’t want to feed the mark more magic. It was already eating hers and her as well. Giving it more magic seemed like a bad idea. Templars supressing the magic coming from the Breach sounded like a better idea concerning her well-being. After making that move she consider selfish considering she had a world to save, Nori never made a decision that would benefit her more than anything else. If it helped the Inquisition, then she would take what was offered. If it helped her personally, she rejected the offer. It was silly notion, she’s told herself that before, but it helped her sleep at night. Not that she got much sleep anyway. The pain the mark gave her kept her awake. And if she did fall asleep, Cullen’s midnight nightmares made him twist and turn. And when he did wake up, Nori stayed awake with him. She was surprised she hadn’t fallen asleep standing up during a war council meeting.

   “I’m guessing you’re not a Warden.” Alistair said, almost in a joking sarcastic manner. Almost.

The woman in front of them tensed up before relaxing ever so slightly.

   “But you are.” Livius pointed out. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me.” That sounds about right, Nori thought, quite tempted to roll her eyes. “Shall we see how that goes?” Nori rolled her eyes then. Livius was confident. Just like every other noble that was against her.

   “He’s deceiving all of you,” Hawke spoke up, stepping forward. The Wardens looked towards her. What made Nori step back ever so slightly was the fact that the demons also turned their heads. Demons had no interest in what humans said and did but only when it was convenient for them. Why did they turn their heads? “He serves an ancient Tevinter magister who wants to unleash a Blight.”

   “That’s a very serious accusation.” Livius faked ignorance. Nori frowned. “Let’s see what the Wardens think.” Livius’ stared slid over to the Wardens who were now paying attention to him. “Wardens, hands up.” All hands went up. Including the demons. Nori’s stomach churned. “Hands down.” The demons were leashed to the Wardens. They were tied together.

   “Corypheus has enslaved them.” Alistair muttered under his breath. Nori glanced his way. Anger did not suit his face. It didn’t suit _him_.

   “They did this to themselves, Alistair.” The woman in rags said. Her voice wavered. She knew that tone. The woman was angry and she was trying to stay calm. “You didn’t see what I saw. This is what they want.”

The woman knew Alistair? She was a Warden? It made sense but why was she tied up like a prisoner? Was she to become a sacrifice? Was she to be used to summon a demon? Or would a demon be bound to her? Whatever the case, it was clear the woman was not against Nori, herself, but if the woman was on Nori’s side was yet to be seen.

   “Exactly.” Livuis explained. “You see, the Calling had the Wardens oh so terrified. They looked everywhere for help.” He was starting to make it sound like some dramatic story. This man was beginning to annoy her. If Nori had a sock, she would shove it in the Vint’s mouth just to make him shut up.

“Including Tevinter.” Alistair added.

   “Yes.” Livius almost annoyed that Alistair had interrupted his dramatic telling. “And since it was my master who put the Calling into their little heads, we; the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy and together, we came up with a plan.” He spread his arms wide as if the whole ordeal was obvious. “Raise a demon army and march into the Deep Roads and kill the Old Gods before they wake.”

   “Oh yes,” The woman in rags spat with sarcasm and disdain. “Because that’s gonna end so well. What could possibly go wrong with a demon army?”

Nori glanced at the woman in rags and then down at the seedling. The vine like plant was squeezing in between the woman’s wrist. It curled around the leather band that bounded her wrist. So she was attempting to break the bounds without gaining attention.

   “Oh, _that_ demon army.” Nori quickly piped up, trying to get the attention away from the woman in rags. “I was beginning to wonder when it would show up.” Truth be told, she had hoped it wouldn’t show up at all. She had enough on her plate as it was.

   “You, you know?” Livius stuttered. He lost his cool. He wasn’t as collected as he thought. He had weaknesses. Information he didn’t know. Gaining back his posture, he spoke; “Then you know how it begins. Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect.” The air felt tense. More so then it already was. Nori could barely swallow. “They’re now my master’s slaves.” And there it was. The words that crushed Nori’s hopes in reasoning with them. The Wardens practically belonged to Corypheus now. “This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas.”

Everything she saw in front of her, the blood magic, the ritual and the sacrifices, it was what they wanted. Corypheus didn’t make them do this. The Wardens did it on their own free will. All because they were afraid. Afraid they were going to die. Afraid that if the Blight returned, there was no one to stop it. So, if they raised an army for one last push against all Old Gods and all Blights, it would be worth the sacrifice. But was it really? Would the sacrifices be worth it? Would it be worth their sanity? Nori didn’t know how Wardens worked or how they thought, but surely, this had to be too far. But fear…fear was a great motivator. Terrible, but great. But one question was on her mind. What did Livius get out of this? What did he get out of creating a demon army using Warden mages?

   “Do you really want to see the world fall to a Blight?” Nori asked, “What do you get out of this?” She had to know. She didn’t know why she had to know, but she needed to know.

   “The Elder One commands the Blight,” Livius explained. “He is not commanded by it like the mindless Darkspawn. The Blight is not uncontrollable or unstoppable, it is simply a tool.”

   “Somebody’s certainly a tool,” Varric muttered. Both Hawke and Nori had to cover their giggles.

   “As for me, well, the Elder One rules from the Golden City, we; the Venatori will be his God Kings, here in the world.”

Power? That was what he wanted? Power? Why was Nori not surprised? It should have been the first assumption on her mind when she asked what he got out of this. He was a man working for Corypheus and had an ego about the size of Skyhold. He wasn’t afraid of his master like most were. Nori frowned. Regaining her serious, down to business stance and attitude, Nori kept her head high. It was time to end this.

   “Let the Wardens go,” She ordered. _And let me go home, I hate this desert_ , she mentally added. “I won’t ask twice.”

   “No.” Livius glared, “You won’t.” He raised his arm and before Nori or anyone could react, pain shot up Nori’s arm. She hunched over, grabbing her wrist as if it would stop the pain. Her eyes blurred. It hurt. It hurt. _Make it stop!_ She could barely breathe as the pain throbbed up her arm. What was he doing?! Make him stop! “The Elder One showed me how to deal with you.” Lord Livius growled. The world seem to sway.

Oh Gods, it hurt…! Her knees buckled and came out from under her as she fell to the ground. The mark was growing. It was growing! It hurt. White pain. Pain up her arm. Pain on her chest. She can’t breathe. _I can’t breathe!_ Her hand was numb. The numbness was growing. Just like the mark. But she could still feel the pain. _Make it stop! Please!_ Creators, it hurt.

   “The mark you wear,” Livius continued. _Shut him up!_ “The Anchor that let you pass safely through the Veil, you stole that from my master.” _Shut up!_ “He’s been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade.” _I don’t care! Shut up!_ “When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be—”

_SHUT UP!_

A rift exploded into the air, cutting Livius off. He flew backwards. He hit the wall and slid to the ground. When did she get back on her feet. When did she raise her hand to open the rift? But the questions running through Nori’s head were cut off as the wall next to his head exploded. Nori glanced at the source. The woman in rags hands were free and they were rising up into the air, like she was trying to lift something heavy. Around the woman, magic tickled the air. No. It wasn’t a tickling feeling but rather, the magic was clawing at the air. Not like what blood magic did to the air, but more like it was trying to get under something.

   “Kill them!” Barked Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium as he scrambled away.

   “Get down!” Alistair shouted. But it was too late.

Nori’s body was slammed to the ground.


	4. For A Little Bit Longer

He’s here. Alistair. He’s here. Why is he here of all places? She could barely comprehend what was being spoken. Alistair. Here. He’s here. In the middle of the desert. With her cousin. With the Inquisitor. He’s here. He’s alive.

Emerson wanted to turn around. Wanted to hug him—kiss him—just to make sure he was really there, that the sun and the heat and the lack of food and water wasn’t making her imagine things. That he was there. That he was real. But she couldn’t. She could feel the vine she was growing bump against her leg occasionally. Keeper Magic, as she called it. Travelling with Velanna back in Amaranthine, Emerson picked up on the Dalish magic. It’s saved her life more than a few times.

 _Just stay still_ , she chanted to herself. _Just stay still a little longer_.

   “Yes.” Livius continued to speak. Did this man ever shut up? “And since it was my master who put the Calling into their little heads, we; the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy and together, we came up with a plan.” Emerson didn’t remember seeing Livius at the stronghold. Clarel was there. Had Livius been there too and she hadn’t seen him? That was highly possible. She would’ve picked him out of the crowd, otherwise. “Raise a demon army and march into the Deep Roads and kill the Old Gods before they wake.”

   “Oh yes,” Emerson spat. “Because that’s gonna end so well. What could possibly go wrong with a demon army?” It’s not like there was the risk of possession or the binding wearing off or losing control of the demon. Nothing to worry about. Emerson scoffed.

The seedling she’d been growing was now pushing its way in between her wrists. Emerson bit back a hiss as the rope cut into her skin. _Almost there. Almost there. Just a little longer_. She twisted her wrists, hoping to lessen the burning on her skin, but it anything, it made it worse. But she rather the rope burn than see a demon spawn where a Warden once stood. The Warden hadn’t wanted this. He had known it was wrong. He was scared. But it had been too late. The scout Warden was killed and a demon took his place. Emerson was convinced that if she had anything in her stomach, she would have thrown up.

She had been wrong. Emerson had thought it was just the mages being used as sacrifices. But it was the warriors and the rouges as well. The more powerful mages were used to summon stronger demons. It made sense in her mind. The demons that stood in front of her were shades. Not particularly strong nor smart. They were summoned by bodies of warriors and rogues. And yet, she was positive she saw a rage demon as she was dragged away when she was captured. If they were summoning demons through rituals like this, then it was a mage’s blood that got the rage demon. It made much more sense. It made sense as to why she was wanted as a sacrifice. They wanted a rage demon, possibly a pride demon and not another shade.

   “Do you really want to see the world fall to a Blight?” Emerson assumed that was the Inquisitor speaking. She really ought to start paying attention. “What do you get out of this?” Power. That was what this man got. He got power to control and bend those he ruled over. And honestly, Emerson would rather face another Blight than face a demon army. At least Emerson can sense darkspawn.

The seedling started to wrap itself around the rope that bounded her wrists. It had to be slow. She couldn’t risk the attention of Livius finding out what she was doing. She was surprised, though. Emerson would’ve thought that Livius would have felt the magic she was using. She knew Alistair felt it and was pretty sure Ro could feel it to—both having Templar training. And there was a good chance that the Inquisitor could feel it too, even without the three of them looking at what she was doing. And yet, Livius didn’t seem to notice it. Was she too far away for him to sense the magic of a simple spell? Or was he simply not interested? Was he that cocky?

   “Let the Wardens go,” The Inquisitor ordered. “I won’t ask twice.”

   “No.” Livius glared, “You won’t.” The air cracked and snapped in Emerson’s ear. She turned her head and found the Inquisitor on the ground, hunched over and struggling to breathe. Emerson frowned and gritted her teeth as Livius _continued_ to talk. The seedling vine twisted around the rope, crushing it. But it wouldn’t be enough to simply strain the rope into snapping. She didn’t have enough time. Her glare turned to Livius, as if simply glaring at him would make him stop yapping.

Green light invaded Emerson’s sight. Using that few seconds of distraction, thorns ripped from the vine and through the rope. It cut her hands and wrists in the process. But that didn’t matter. Her hands were free. She threw a fireball towards Livius. _Distract him_. _Make him fear what he’s unleashed_. The wall next to his head exploded.

Her mana pools filled, Emerson began to lift her hands, as if trying to lift something heavy above her head.

   ”Kill them!”

The words were lost in her ears. She was focused on this spell. Crushing Prison, it was one of her personal favourites.

   “Get down!”

Emerson’s hands came flying down and the spell was released. Wardens, demons and soldiers alike were forced to the ground. Fire began to lick at her fingertips. She flicked out her arm to the side causing the weapons of those behind to become alight. _Just like old times_ , she thought.

   “Amell!” Emerson turned. She grabbed the staff that flew towards her. She spun in it between her fingers, testing its balance. It wasn’t what she was used to it, to her, the staff felt off balance but it would have to do.

  “Thanks, Hawke.” Emerson grinned. She bolted forward. She brought her staff up, whacking a Warden in the stomach. She rolled over the back of the hunched over Warden. She spun, and the blade at the end of the staff slashed through the Warden’s ribs and straight into his heart. She reefed it out and jabbed the staff into the ground. Lightning rocked up the staff and up to the tip. The collected lightning charged exploded from the tip and hit her surrounding enemies.

She felt the air burn and tingle with not just her magic, but that of the Inquisitor. Emerson barely glanced at her new allies as she casted her spells. A crossbow’s bolt whizzed past her head. Grey eyes widened as she watched pass her by and pierced into a demon’s head.

 _Leliana’s arrows_ , Emerson thought. A flying arrow raced across her mind in a summer haze. She shook her head. Now was not the time to be side tracked. She swung her staff around her, the staff’s blade sliced at the air, making swarming enemies back off while dodging. It felt good to be back in the thick of battle. She felt a little rusty. It’s been a while since she’s had to use a staff in close combat. But she missed it. She had missed the rush of adrenaline and excitement. She missed having allies knowing what to do and when to do it. She missed feeling like she was a part of clockwork.

Emerson reached out and grabbed the face of an oncoming Warden. She burned the spell Walking Bomb onto him. He screamed. He struggled. But it was too late. The spell—the curse—was upon him. There was no going back now. She spun him around and pushed him into the oncoming demons that swarmed around her.

   “Heads up!” She yelled in warning. The Warden’s head exploded. “Quite literally.” A few moments later the demons the Bomb Warden had bumped into also exploded. She had almost forgotten that spell tended to jump to those around the original target when they died.

Emerson checked her surroundings. Opposing Wardens and their leashed demons were dead. The adrenaline passed and Emerson’s knees felt weak. The staff slipped from her fingers, bouncing against the stone floor. Her knees gave out from under her.

   “Emerson!” Her name being called sounded distant. Faint. The weight she felt around her as she was pulled off the ground felt like it was too much. Like it was going to crush her. A waterskin was placed at her cracked lips. She barely felt the water being tipped into her mouth. But she grabbed at it. Drank the water greedily. “Steady, love. It’s alright.”

She could breathe again.

   “Well,” Hawke spoke up, coming towards them followed by the Inquisitor. “That went well.” When Emerson looked at her cousin, she noticed that her hair was different. The last time Emerson had seen Hawke, she had longer hair. It was short now, if a bit choppy. It suited her. At least now Hawke’s hair wouldn’t get in the way when she swung that greatsword of hers around.

Emerson’s gaze turned to the elven Inquisitor. She was pretty little thing. The staff she carried had to be a least half a head taller than her. It was rather adorable. She watched as Inquisitor Lavellan tucked her hair behind her ear. Did her ear just twitch?

   “And thanks to the ritual,” Alistair said, snapping Emerson out of her daze. He never stepped away from her. Emerson took comfort in that as she leant against him. It was good to be near him again. “The Warden mages are enslaved to Corypheus.”

   “And the Warden warriors?” Hawke asked.

   “It wasn't just warriors being used as sacrifices,” Emerson said, her throat still felt dry. She drank more water from the waterskin. “It was the rogues as well. Some were even mages.”

  “They were sacrificing mages?” Lavellan asked, surprised.

  “Mages attract more demons than those who aren’t. Powerful ones.” Emerson explained. “So, sacrifice a mage and you might just get a rage demon out of it. Maybe even a pride demon. It’s a bit of lucky dip, really.”

   Lavellan frowned and sarcasm bit at her voice; “Human sacrifices, demon summonings…who looks at this and thinks, ‘Hey, that’s a good idea. Let’s do it.’”

   Emerson hid a smile; “The fearful and the foolish, apparently.” She took another swig of water. “I may know where the Wardens are. When I was captured,” Alistair’s hold her waist tightened slightly, “they mentioned Adamant. It’s an abandoned fortress in that direction. I’m gonna take a guess and say that’s where Erimond went.”

   “I guess they didn’t want to summon a demon out in public.” Lavellan huffed. Emerson gave an airy laugh. She had a feeling she would get along with the Inquisitor.

   “Alistair and I will scout out Adamant,” Hawke began.

   “You two?” Emerson cut in, “Scout? Hawke, you can cause a scene just by standing in a room. And Alistair was never good at scouting. No offence, love.”

   “And you’re injured and lacking nutrients.” Hawke retorted, “Don’t worry so much, Amell. We’ll meet back at Skyhold.”

   “No, I’m coming with you.” Emerson went to step forward, to prove she needed no such nursing but the moment she stepped out of Alistair’s hold her knees came out from under her and Alistair had barely had any time to catch her.

   “You need rest,” Alistair spoke quietly in her ear as he knelt beside her. “You need food and water. It’s alright, dear. We’ll be alright. I promise.”

Emerson said nothing. She didn’t want Alistair out of her sight. Not so soon after seeing him again. She leaned into him. _Just stay still_. His arms wrapped around her. _Just stay still for a bit longer_. Eventually, she nodded.

   “Come back to me.” Was all she said and he was gone. Alistair left and disappeared into the desert wind with Ro by his side.

 _Be safe_.


End file.
